Coldest Day
The Coldest Day is a short story revealing the origins of Vantelic, and Order of Mata Nui Engineer. Story Cold. There was no better explanation for the weather in northern Metru Nui, far away from the Ko-Metru District of the massive floating super-city. The cold found its way into the gaps and crevices, biting at everything it could. The Cold found ways to destroy a weak flame and extinguish its warmth and hope as light was replaced with darkness. Ice had conquered the wakes of the salty sea near the docks of Ga-Metru, as piles of snow began to build up, as if it was a white fortress; its dome as unforgiving as the outside. The Cold nonetheless did not disturb the peace of the night, as the flakes of snow slowly drifted and glittered down to the bottom of the running waters and streets. Ships rarely docked at this time, it was considered too dangerous as the ice drifting near the docks could have punched a hull in the boards of any ship. So the reason a small, sleek sloop was docked at the unloading docks; and lights were burning inside the shed near the end of the docks was a bit suspicious, especially since workers at the docks had been sent home for the night. A frozen statue stood erect over the docks, standing on one of the larger unloading docks as the black of the alloy of its being kept it kindled in the night. The glittering flakes of snow breathed on the armor gently, as it settled and gathered on its joints. A pair of green, heated eyes scanned over the lighted building with suspicion; as the armor slowly rose from a crouch. The figure removed a set of tools, as he scanned carefully over the environment using a mounted visual hardpoint—detecting two beings drag across the snow towards the building. Slowly, he placed his elongated; but slender fingers on the base of the device pressed against his eyes—removing the specialized scanner. Sleekly, the being disappeared from the pile of snow which was crowding his very being—one of the two figures trudging to the base turning to look back where it used to stand. Shaking its head, it returned its attention to the building; catching up with its companion as the two eventually hit the entrance of the establishment. Upon opening the two doors, the two beings were struck with a brilliant warmth and light—as they were nearly blinded; having adapted to the dark, as they rubbed their irritated eyes to contain the itch. “Kol, you’re late,” a being on the inside remarked, “You know that he ''doesn’t like it when his employees are late, especially on business like this.” “The storm created a lot more foot-traffic than was expected; it’s really been snowing this year.” Kol replied, shrugging harmlessly as he approached the table his third compatriot was seated at—behind the wooden stand a blue-clad being, and behind her—a load of boxes, as smaller beings scattered to unload the cargo ship. “It’s funny, the storms actually froze over the ports; it’s a one in a million chance!” One of the Ga-Matoran exclaimed, hoping to catch the attention of the two taller beings—which unfortunately she did, as they shot her deadly glances; a move which successfully burnt out her fire, as she fell silent. “Anyways, this is a ''one in a million ''shipment we got our hands on. High-end stuff at our fingertips, we could make a fortune selling these.” The being stated, gesturing to black and silver-alloy boxes; holographic green symbols swirling above the crate. It wasn’t translatable into Matoran, as the odd shapes seemed to belong to another language entirely. Kol’s eyes widened, as he strafed over to the boxes—nearly placing his quivering fingers on the lid of the box; as a voice boomed behind another stack of crates: “Don’t you DARE taint the contents of those boxes!” A being stepped away from the crates he was concealed behind, donning scavenger swab as he pointed an accusing finger at Kol; nearly trembling with anger. Kol recoiled fearfully, as he drew his eyes to the right hand of the scavenger; as they hovered over a ballistic sidearm. Kol trudged slowly behind the table once more, behind his third companion; who scowled lightly. “I-I was looking, honestly!” Kol tried to excuse himself, as the eyes of the scavenger were cold, and penetrating. “Well then, looking doesn’t require you to touch. Looking is meant for eyes, not hands you cursed Viocouze.” Kol took the insult lightly, but the warning heavily; as he found a seat on a less interesting; splintering lid of a crate. “Now then,” the scavenger continued, “that being said I expect to be paid in full; and in full—I mean being paid for as much as they are being sold for. I seriously doubt they would be cheap, these are a war-species fanciest tools; after all.” The scavenger looked over the blue, black and crimson armors of the three beings seated before him—already taking note of the blue’s incompetence of fine products. The black had smarter eyes, though, and seemed to be taking into account all the points the scavenger raised. The crimson just seemed to be extra muscle. After moments of consideration, the black-clad responded; saying: “I don’t think that is possible. Our employer doesn’t like a pay-check exceeding or matching the fine for what is being sold.” The scavenger groaned, running his fingers along the fine wood of the desk; before coming up with what he thought was a clever response: “So, you would know that as a product seller—you buy it cheap, but sell it expensive. And I respect that prospect, but that means I can make a business out of the same principle as well. And if your boss doesn’t want to play by the same rules, I can just find someone else.” The black-clad smiled menacingly, before responding: “Unfortunately, there isn’t ‘someone else’; since someone else belongs to the boss already. That or they mysteriously disappear after a night of business. But, you side with the boss—I can assure you that your head won’t be spiked or left a stain in the ground.” The scavenger snarled, he didn’t like the prospect of being threatened at his own sight of business. He was tense, and close to drawing his weapon—and the black-clad knew it. The crimson tensed as well, fingers running along the smooth handle of a dagger; and the moron blue kept his hand on what the scavenger made out to be a laser pistol. All the black-clad had to do was nod his head a single time and the scavenger could as well have been dead. “Don’t you dare threaten me,” the scavenger said as blackness seemed to run along the lights of the facility. He ignored it, though—he just thought the crane was moving to pick up another package; as it had been doing all night. “I won’t be so understanding if you do so,” he tried to threaten the three; as the crimson cackled under the flimsy weight of the threat. Another ballistic pistol clicked underneath the table, and the scavenger knew it wasn’t his—a cold fear trickling from any pore of his body; as the cold from the outside seemed to enter as the sweat left. A red dot fell from the lights, and presented itself clearly on the forehead of the black-clad at the table; the scavenger regaining some of his nerve. The cackle of the crimson seemed to stop instantly, as he drew his dagger—a stream of bullets tore into his thigh, running up into his chest. A round discharged from under the table, and as soon as it did—it was flipped over; the black-clad diving under the table as a round pierced the wooden surface of the table right above him. The scavenger crawled away, as Kol dived into cover. The scavenger barely felt the pain, as blood drooled a fountain out of his leg; sprinting behind cover with a burst of adrenaline. Out of the corner of the scavengers eyes—he saw a darkness overcome his overhead cover; as the sniper rifle fell to the floor with a clack as it slid across smoothly. His man sent over the edge—landing on his back with a powerful, deafening crack. He lay on the floor unconsciously, twitching below his neck. Fear took him again, and it wasn’t from his gunshot. He ignored the chaos, as Ga-Matoran ran around the bay—equally as injured, as the Ga-Matoran that interrupted the black and blue-clad previously was cowering in a corner. A few actually put up a fight, although he didn’t know for what side. Turning his head out of cover—a laser projectile sizzled only a few centimeters above his head. Instinctively, he pulled back. That blue coward was waiting for him to come out, turning his head—he saw his second ally; holding a ballistic assault rifle. A laser passed through his left shoulder, as the scavenger thought he was brave to continue fighting; despite his reasonably dischargeable injury. The scavenger was about to open his mouth, but the darkness ran along the lights again. He heard the screams of the Ga-Matoran, and the two clads as he heard the gunfire from the laser pistol. The scavenger looked out of cover again, as the darkness took shape as a being; standing over the black-clad; the darkness’s armor noticeably much more dark in tint. The black-clad panicked, trying to flee from the darkness. But the darkness kept its hold on the black-clad with what seemed to be a foot pressed against the throat of the black-clad, as it twisted slowly in heavy grasp. The black-clad choked slowly, and painfully; the scavenger watching in complete amazement and fear. He trembled greatly, trying to raise his pistol to beam on the darkness—but he encountered fear. The fear ran through his mind, trying to make out logic. What if he missed? Would it anger the darkness? If not, was the darkness on his side? But it couldn’t be, it took out his sniper. The scavenger looked over his shoulder at his comrade, who stood equally as still as the scavenger himself. The scavenger noticed his ally was trembling at the hands; not sure whether or not he himself should open fire. As the choking of the black-clad ceased, and the room got noticeably quieter; the nervous murmuring of the scavenger’s ally was heard. This darkness turned its long neck, its face bearing green, soulless eyes—as it targeted the scavenger and his comrade. It lifted its long, but clad arms up towards the light; as a brilliant energy fled from the palm of the darkness; as the darkness soon grew—overtaking the scavenger and his ally. A few Ga-Matoran screamed as well; as terrified as the scavenger, which he thought to be impossible at this point. He heard his ally scream, a couple of gunshots, a rapid thumping which soon took over every sentient thought running to meet ends in his head. He thought a simple word: ‘run’ and he did as he thought. He fled, and ran. He ignored his ally which saved his life; all he knew is that he wanted to survive. But a loose strand of darkness caught his foot. He fell face forward, smacking into the floor of the bay; his weapon skidding away. He was defenseless, and certainly, he was doomed to die. He wasn’t afraid of the crimson, the blue or the black-clad; but of the darkness now. Its presence seemed to loom greatly over him, causing him to tremble and cry for his own safety; like an infant. “P-please! Leave me alone!” the scavenger cried; flopping onto his back as he tried to back away, but he was cornered. The lights soon turned on, and above him loomed the darkness. He screamed in utter terror, as the darkness grabbed him by the cuff of his scavenger garb; being lifted into the air as a mighty grasp seized his throat—the green, daring eyes burning into his memory, as well as the silver face which surrounded the curves of the eyes which were shoved in its dark skin. The Kanohi of his warrior was not recognizable, and it caused a great deal of terror to the scavenger. But this darkness, was physical, its grasp metallic and its breath as present as his own. This would have usually calmed him, but it terrified him even more; because this darkness: was of his own world. With a sudden twist, the scavenger fell into unconsciousness; as he fell onto the floor—but felt nothing, the fear running through his mind, as it battled with the peace he felt. The tangible darkness shifted its feet carefully around the resting body of the scavenger, as it soon approached a fallen Ga-Matoran; taking a crouch as he looked over the bleeding corpse—horrified in a sense of the tragedy. It turned its head to meet a cowering Ga-Matoran, who saw the darkness conquer her employer. The tangible darkness opened its mouth, and spoke in her tongue: “Isn’t this place supposed to be shut down? Like all the others?” “Y-you stopped them,” the Ga-Matoran said, trying to change the subject—but the words were obviously free from her will; as she said it almost instantly. “They would have killed each other. Anyone else would have just let them do it.” “This place,” the tangible darkness said in a colder tone, snatching the attention of the Ga-Matoran, “it’s supposed to be shut down. Why are you here working?” “It’s business! I needed to make more widgets, and the scholars don’t let me anywhere near the schools!” the Ga-Matoran replied, as if not trying to anger the darkness. The tangible darkness considered this for a moment, before replying: “Do you know what you’re getting involved with? Even being around these things, they can get you in trouble.” The Ga-Matoran looked down in shame, trying to think of an excuse—but not successfully forming one, she looked away in a few different places; feeling as if she was indeed misplaced, before returning gazes with the darkness. “I… guess you’re right. I don’t know why, I thought this would have been easier than to wait for a clearer season. I won’t be around here again, I promise.” The darkness simply nodded its head, standing up as it removed a metal rectangle from one of its pouches; scanning the black and silver boxes which were supposed to be the ‘special’ shipments. Upon trying to translate the dialect written holographical, the device flashed red several times—as no match was made. The darkness furrowed its brow, before returning the device to its pouch. “Get your friends, and get as far away from here as you can. There is going to be trouble and its coming quick.” The darkness said, turning towards the Ga-Matoran again; before turning heel—trying to head off in the opposite direction. “Wait!” The darkness halted progression, looking over its shoulder to meet gazes with the Ga-Matoran. “What’s your name? I can’t live without thanking the… the thing, which saved us bloodshed.” The darkness shifted at the term: ‘the’ in the statement, as it seemed uncomfortable with sharing any personal details with a Matoran he barely knew. But it relented, as he responded carefully. “Vantelic.” ''Several hours later, Ta-Metru, an unidentified facility... five days until the Coldest Day. The fire blazing in several furnaces located around the room four figures gathered in seemed quite warm; given the freezing conditions outside. Had you spent time in the room, you would have finally been feeling comfortable—but as stray breezes of cold blew through the shafts; you would have nearly lost all the warmth you had experienced for a matter of time. And Vihanny, wasn’t exactly pleased with those given conditions; he wasn’t pleased at all. Three of his best men, two found by Vahki Patrol; and one torn to shreds by a ballistic firearm he more than likely sold. He found the perpetrators, the scavenger and his men; and had disposed of them properly—but three men down the drain wouldn’t have been enough… if it wasn’t for the precious shipments he now got for free. But he wasn’t gathered in a room with three assassins to discuss a matter of what to do with weapons he could sell for a fortune anywhere else. He was more interested in firing them, more specifically in the posed body of a great nuisance of his. “Welcome, ladies and gentlemen alike to my fine factory this day…” Vihanny teased, turning on his heel to look over two figures seated in chairs around the metal table—as a larger one stood, giving an uncomfortable glance in the direction of Vihanny. Vihanny had all the right reasons to be afraid, but he didn’t dare. He was too prideful to be scared, too interested in inserting his own dominance above three assassins, who would likely try at any time to claim a bounty against him given a proper amount of money. He held his hands together, looking over the assassins carefully. “I assume you saw the bounty I had set up,” Vihanny said, trying to find words to finish; before the largest being of the three split his mandibles and spoke in a deep, Exusian accent: ‘’I believe the wise, make a point… and the fools, dawdle in nonsense.“ Vihanny swallowed, as the being that just spoke was a Lykos Kinsman; the greatest species hailing from the South of the Matoran Universe. They were mighty warriors, who donned great tools to make them the capital species of war. Declaring war on the Lykos, was the same as picking up a gun; and shooting yourself in the head. It was even suicide to threaten war against the Lykos, as they know no bluff. And they would fight to the end, (if you could put up a good fight) given their reliance on honor. “Of course, I have a problem. And I need you to deal with it, Vihanny explained as a small bead of sweat ran down his back. “You kill my problem, and you will be well awarded for your efforts.” “But I shall kill him first,” the only female of the group said, “I think you would find the other two assassins in this room outdated, Vihanny.” The assassin that just spoke was a rogue Toa of Water,Yerai. She had been an assassin for quite some time, and was well experience. It was horrifying to think a Toa would go against his or her code, but once they did—they become one of the biggest threats in the universe. The Lykos snarled at this remark, as if it was a challenge; pointing it’s elongated head at the Toa of Water. “I shall smear this ground with your crimson blood, Kidemonas.“ “Don’t you dare try to challenge me, Martyras; or else you are asking for a fight you will not walk out of!” Yerai threatened. Vihanny grinded his teeth, looking over at the third assassin—the one that might have threatened him the most; as this assassin was simply cleaning the bit of his hatchet; sharpening it with a rectangular device. “I shall grind your bones into—” Martyras was about to threaten, before being cut off by the third assassin; as he glared his two eyes at the Lykos, and then the Toa; saying calmly: “I would recommend you two be quiet. Or else I will be forced to make you permanently mute; and I don’t use anesthesia for the procedure.” There was quiet. Vihanny still kept his glance on the one assassin. This assassin’s name was a mystery to him, as he donned crimson armor—and made use out of two collapsible hatchets. No one knew where he came from, but his efficiently spoke for it, and nearly everyone was terrified of him. Those who weren’t were fools. “Right then,” Vihanny continued, “to make this a much more interesting game, you all have one day to claim the bounty, and one day only. During your one day, the three other assassins are not allowed to intervene—lest they be disqualified from the bounty. I assume all of you are interested in this sort of sport. It makes everything, much more interesting.” “Why should I wait when I can kill him now?!” Yerai questioned and demanded, slamming her fist on the table. “Because,” Vihanny smiled, “hunting is a sport.” No one disagreed with that statement, as the Lykos bowed his head humbly. The mysterious assassin looked up, and stared at Vihanny with a vengeful disgust; before asking: “I only counted three assassins in this room. What do you mean by ‘three other assassins?” Vihanny’s smile struggled to remain, but out of dominance; he kept the foolish expression—a light twitch on his lips; which the mysterious assassin seemed to notice immediately. “W-why don’t you know? That means that one assassin is already out on duty.” Yerai and Martyras looked at Vihanny with disgust, as if he was being unfair in his matter of completing this task. But he stood his ground, and before anyone could possible object—he boomed with a loud voice, saying sternly as if he were not to be interrupted: “You are all excused! And may the best man,” he turned to Yerai, “or woman… “Win.” Characters *Vantelic (Protagonist) *Vihanny (Antagonist) Trivia *The Coldest Day was the first story that the Author actually finished before posting the parts. *The Coldest Day will be the second story the Author would have ever completed, the first being Erevayx's Debut. *The ''Coldest Day ''is an event story, where the final chapter and epilogue will be posted on Christmas Day. The re-write started at the end of February, 2015.